


can you calculate the speed of light?

by 1000ft



Series: hey arizona [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12990300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000ft/pseuds/1000ft
Summary: From across the room, Keith watches Lance be stupid. He flails his arms when he talks, his eyes widen then narrow then roll heavenward. Lance is probably recounting his post-battle report to Shiro with over-exaggerated acts of heroics and bravery, and it's stupid.(But Lance isn't stupid, is he?)





	can you calculate the speed of light?

He didn't get kicked out because he was stupid.

Notebooks, books that bowed the wood of their shelf, a never-ending supply of pens that he lost and lost and lost—Keith studied and craved information and fought, not fists and feet, but intellect and stubborn tenacity, to get the grades he had at the Garrison. Flight simulation scores alone weren't enough to keep him in a space exploration program.

But Keith didn't get kicked out because he was stupid.

(Really? the voice in his head that sometimes sounds like Shiro's, sometimes like his dad's, is dripping with neon yellow disdain. Losing your temper is stupid, Keith. Discipline problems are stupid, Keith.)

Stupid, Keith.

Stupid Keith.

From across the room, Keith watches Lance be stupid. He flails his arms when he talks, his eyes widen then narrow then roll heavenward. Lance is probably recounting his post-battle report to Shiro with overexaggerated acts of heroics and bravery, and it's stupid.

But Keith knows Lance isn't. Stupid. He knows he's a brilliant strategist, even if his mind hasn't settled into that of a solider, knows that Lance could talk circles on diplomatic missions, persuade and goad and cajole anyone around his little finger.

Lance did stupid things, maybe on accident, maybe genuinely, Keith couldn't tell (didn't think it mattered) but Lance was smart about it. Lance used it to hide cunning wit and biting insecurities.

Keith didn't have enough motivation to be so complex. He didn't have anything behind the stupidity--even though he wasn't, he wasn't--but volatile actions and decisions he hadn't thought through. He wasn't smart about it like Lance.

Maybe that was why--because it was Lance, who's words were sparking violet-gold, who was brilliant--Keith let himself snap.

The rest of the team regards him. Lance regards him. Keith explains what had happened on his end. A successful mission, just barely, and a major mistake because of his impulsive fighting digs the weight of responsibility--the weight of Voltron, that tons upon tons of metal--sharply into his shoulders.

Keith explains. What he could've done, to make it better, to make it less of a close call, because he has to give something here, he has to make up for the muted disappointment in Shiro's face.

And Lance speaks. "Stop being stupid, Keith."

Keith thinks his anger is red, but when he grabs Lance by the collar of his uniform, he’s submerged into blue, blue eyes. Widening blue eyes.   
  
Eyes that narrow before Keith can open his mouth and yell at a teammate he’d yanked close.   
“Christ, Keith!” Lance makes a grab for the hands around his own collar, holding fast and moving closer—closer, as if they weren’t already nose to nose—until Keith can count the freckles across Lance’s nose. “Let me finish—don’t be stupid and think it was your fault!”

Oh. Oh.

Keith relaxes his hands and his face flushes. This, the familiar humiliation that comes after the flood of anger, it’s sticky and tope, clinging to his lips and gluing his mouth shut tight. Oops.

Lance is breathing hard, his eyebrows furrowed, holding Keith’s wrists with callused fingers. Lance is smart, and he can wrap anyone around his little finger—Keith fully acknowledges that he’s included, snug and resilient in those hands—so Lance doesn’t take a step back, get angry at Keith’s anger. This isn’t the joking anger that blooms with forced camaraderie; Lance can tell.

Keith is so blown away by this boy.

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” Lance keeps talking, staying close, eyes flicking once to the rest of the team before they anchor on Keith. Keith isn’t strong enough to keep his gaze, but he’s stubborn enough, so he does.   
  
Keith huffs. “I jumped in there when I wasn’t—”

“Which usually,” Lance snorts, “would not be a problem. It would’ve helped, if another fleet hadn’t shown up. It wasn’t your fault, Keith.”

Keith nods slowly. Pulls his hands as easy as he can from Lance’s. He’s embarrassed now, there’s no way he can hide the red across his face. Shiro’s voice echoes hollowly in his head, even when the real one starts wrapping up the post-mission briefing. Losing control is stupid, Keith. Stop being stupid, Keith.

It’s not until they’re filing out of the room that Lance speaks to him again. The blue paladin grabs at his upper arm and waits for the rest to disperse.

The grin Keith receives is nothing short of blinding, and Lance’s words are golden in the stale-grey castle air. “By the way—you’re not stupid. Just in case you were feeling self-conscious.”

And he winks.

Keith splutters and yanks his arm out of Lance’s grip. “W-whatever! Asshole.” If a smile tugs the last of the humiliation out of his thoughts, then that’s no one’s business but his own. Lance laughs as if he can hear the struggle raging in Keith’s head before making for the door.

“Y-you aren’t either!”

Keith almost claps a hand over his mouth—damnit, damnit, wasn’t this whole thing about impulse control?—but grits his teeth when Lance turns sharply. Best to see it out.

“You aren’t stupid either, Lance.”

And if the fondness that melts Lance’s surprise reminds Keith of marigold sunsets, that’s not anyone’s business either. 

**Author's Note:**

> I, like the Big Three punk rock bands of my time, make sure there is no correlation between the title of the work and the work itself. Have a goodnight, thanks for reading.


End file.
